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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24877747">once upon a work in progress</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/nishlovesmochi/pseuds/nishlovesmochi'>nishlovesmochi</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>An attempt at slow burn heheh, Crack-ish, Editor!Akaashi, F/M, Fluff, Slice of Life, writer!reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 10:40:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,095</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24877747</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/nishlovesmochi/pseuds/nishlovesmochi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>You’d say that the number one rule of being a writer is to not fall in love with your editor. But since you’ve had a crush on one Akaashi Keiji for the longest time, that rule doesn’t really matter anymore, does it?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Akaashi Keiji/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>62</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. one.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This started as some random brainstorming in a Discord chat, but I loved the idea so much that I made it into a fic heheh.</p><p>I give thanks to my friends Rain, Kitty and especially Sushi for this idea! Thank you. (∪ ◡ ∪)</p>
    </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This started as some random brainstorming in a Discord chat, but I loved the idea so much that I made it into a fic heheh.</p><p>I give thanks to my friends Rain, Kitty and especially Sushi for this idea! Thank you. (∪ ◡ ∪)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Were you incredibly lucky or extremely unfortunate to be here?</p>
<p>You kept asking yourself the question, your answer getting tossed back and forth, back and forth between the two extremes like an old rag. Akaashi shifted in his seat across from you at the table, and you looked up from the still blank document on your laptop to watch him do a mundane thing like adjust the position of his glasses on the bridge of his nose.</p>
<p>He looked absolutely beautiful. </p>
<p>You would’ve murdered someone in cold blood just for the chance to exist in such close proximity to the resident pretty boy of the company, but to have the man himself sitting at the same table as you was more difficult than you had anticipated. Akaashi Keiji was almost too pretty, every feature on his face delicately crafted to perfection by a higher power. You could only imagine the rest of him was built to the same too perfect specifications.</p>
<p>He rubbed at his eye under his glasses, knocking it out from its place on his face, and you laughed like you had forgotten he was still sitting in front of you.</p>
<p>“Hm?” Akaashi had prompted you to explain yourself, but you were too distracted by how cute – and still perfect – he looked with his glasses askew on his nose from his movements.</p>
<p>You cleared your throat needlessly when your laughter had died from being the focus of the Akaashi Keiji’s attention for more than a second. “It’s nothing,” you said, when he had deigned to keep his eyes on you. You brought your hands up from your lap and placed them at the edge of your keyboard, as if you were ready to start writing. </p>
<p>But your head was still empty. No ideas. No scene or sequence of somethings that stood out amongst all the others that could be used for your new novel. No thoughts about anything other than the person who was sitting across from you, close to enough to touch if only you dared. And you dared not, not even if you were offered a million dollars for it. There was no amount of money in this world that would be enough to cover your shame if he thought that you were creepy.</p>
<p>You mentally shuddered at the thought.</p>
<p>“It’s not nothing if you laughed,” Akaashi said, after a moment of silence because you had been pointedly ignoring his gaze for how self-conscious you felt beneath the weight of it. You kept up the pretense with much effort, eyes darting about on the plain white page that you still haven’t filled with anything. </p>
<p>“I’ve not seen you laugh before.”</p>
<p>There was something about the nonchalant way he said it that was immensely disarming. That he hadn’t seen you laugh. Why would that be something noteworthy to him? He had dozens of people falling at his feet on a daily basis. People of all gender identities were alike, some subtle and some not so subtle, in how they threw themselves at him. And he had noticed you in particular, amidst all the chaos that perpetually surrounded him for being as beautiful as he was?</p>
<p>You felt your face grow warm from his words and the feelings, the thoughts, the assumptions you were attaching to them, so you sank further back into the backrest in an attempt to get away from him. Not that it worked. Even in the far edge of your periphery, you could tell that he was still looking directly at you.</p>
<p>You swallowed, suddenly feeling a little more nervous. Or a lot more. You’ve been nervous since you were told that you were going to sit down with Akaashi from the editing department for a meeting about your novel – the one you had yet to write, you reminded yourself again. The one that existed only in your head in various scenes, with no words to pull them out of there and into existence.</p>
<p>But somehow this casual conversation was worse. Having such a beautiful man strike up a vaguely friendly chat in a professional environment was going to give you false hope, if you had indulged him. </p>
<p>“I write mostly horror and the like, so it’s weird if I looked like I was having fun at work, wouldn’t it? I’d look like a sadist or something.” </p>
<p>And indulge the beautiful man you did, spitting out a string of words that sat precariously on the border of professional and friendly. A little of both in your response so that he could choose where this conversation was headed.</p>
<p>You just hoped that he would err more on the side of professional, for the sake of your poor heart. It was too much work just existing with less than a metre between you and him. The longer you sat in this chair, the smaller the space between felt, shrinking more and more as this conversation continued. You weren’t mad about it per se, but surely Akaashi could take a hint that maybe it would be easier for you to start writing if he wasn’t sitting directly across from you? </p>
<p>The more you drank in the visage of beauty before you, the harder your heart worked. If he had a good pair of ears on that pretty head, he’d definitely be able to hear your heart incessantly thumping against your ribcage. It would sound a lot like a child bashing on a mini drum kit unsupervised in the music store.</p>
<p>“That’s mostly true, but it’s not weird to have fun at work.”</p>
<p>Why was Akaashi making it so hard to be around him? He should stop being so nice. He should stop having the ability, or the willingness, to keep the conversation going.</p>
<p>It wasn’t good for your heart at all, and you knew it. The little crush you’d had on him since your university days didn’t help your cause either. All that crush did was grow and grow no matter how much you willed it to cut it out, every stolen glance at the back of his head and chance passing in the halls jolting your heart into overdrive.</p>
<p>You nodded, a smile breaking out on your face before you could restrain it. “Of course! I don’t do this job for the money, you know.”</p>
<p>There was wrinkle on his nose at your response, and you froze. Was talking about money a sore spot for him? You immediately opened your mouth to say something to take back the words that you hadn’t intended to be offensive, but nothing came out. </p>
<p>So you closed your mouth and held Akaashi’s gaze that you still, for the life of you, couldn’t read.</p>
<p>“You don’t think the company pays you fairly?” He asked, his brows now knitted in what looked to be concern. You mentally yelled at your heart to stop dancing, because this conversation probably meant nothing to Akaashi. This concern was likely nothing special. He was just concerned for the sake of a colleague who might be underpaid. </p>
<p>You raised a hand to wave off his concern, a sheepish smile on your face. </p>
<p>“I’m getting paid just fine! What I was trying to say was something to the effect of ‘art for art’s sake’? That creating itself is the means, the function, and the end. There’s nothing more to add.”</p>
<p>You stilled in your nerve-fuelled gesticulation, suddenly acutely aware of your hands in front of your face and quickly setting them back down close to your keyboard. You swallowed again, your throat dry from the realisation that you had just gone off on a tangent to Akaashi and you barely knew him. Sure, you’ve had a crush on him for years now, but that didn’t mean that you were allowed to–</p>
<p>“That’s a good way of looking at it,” he said, nodding sagely, the hand he had pressed to his chin furthering the effect. “I feel the same way. There’s intrinsic value in art and creating art. If not, humans wouldn’t do it at all.”</p>
<p>He paused, for a moment, as if he had forgotten what he was going to say and was trying to remember it. Akaashi took his hand from his chin and replaced at his own keyboard, and said, “I’m looking forward to working with you on your novel, Y/N-san.”</p>
<p>Your brain shortcircuited at his words, but your body managed to move regardless, nodding and then giving a little bow to him before nodding again. “Ah, same here,” you said, inclining your head in another bow that Akaashi dutifully returned in kind. </p>
<p>“Let’s make it a good one?” </p>
<p>The words escaped your lips before you could stop them from leaving. Those weren’t words that you should be saying to a colleague that you weren’t close to, but what has been said was final, and you begrudgingly accepted the fact, pressing your lips shut to prevent more unseemly things from coming out. </p>
<p>You were so uncool in front of him, and you felt the back of your neck burn with embarrassment at how he must perceive you.</p>
<p>Akaashi had simply smiled, the first one you’ve had the pleasure of beholding up close. And he glowed, like the gentle rays of sun peeking into your room on weekend mornings to wake you up in their warm caress.</p>
<p>“Yes, let’s.” </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I don't know if this is relevant whatsoever, but I have never managed to finish a romance novel in my entire life. I can only hope that it doesn't show heheh. ʘ‿ʘ</p>
<p>I plan to update this weekly, so please stay tuned!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. two.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm still a little high from getting a new long fic out, so here's chapter two! I couldn't help writing a little more, even if it hasn't been a week since chapter one yet heheh. ヽ( ´ ∇ ｀ )ノ</p>
<p>I think I'll be updating this every weekend from now!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Akaashi’s gaze fell on you, and once again, it was unreadable.</p>
<p>You busied yourself with picking up your iced coffee that was no longer cold instead, bringing it up to your lips and taking a sip that was too loud in the small meeting room. You hadn’t yet learned how to decipher the thoughts and feelings he had in those beautiful gunmetal blue eyes, so you settled for not trying at all.</p>
<p>“Y/N-san, have you or have you not started on your novel?” He asked again, ending his question with a sigh.</p>
<p>You had dodged it the first two times he had asked, but you were certain that he wouldn’t let you slide a third time. You returned the sigh, though you were directing it to yourself rather than at Akaashi who was actually doing his job, and set your cup down on the coaster.</p>
<p>“I’ve written a few things, but it’s not enough for a chapter,” you said, taking your laptop and turning it so that he could see. Akaashi leaned in to take a closer look, his eyes narrowing behind his glasses as he scrutinised what little you had managed to write over the past few days that you had chosen to work from home. </p>
<p>He exhaled, and you could hear it coming, a long lecture that he was probably going to unleash on you. You knew that being an editor for several writers at the same time, especially writers like yourself who were decidedly inconsistent, was difficult. So you thought to play nice and bite back whatever petty comebacks threatened to slip out as you were getting scolded by someone the same age as you.</p>
<p>But the scolding never came.</p>
<p>Instead, Akaashi hummed as he reread the mess of lines that you had written, his hand going to his chin again in that sage-like pose. He reached out across the table to place a finger from his other hand on the touchpad, scrolling up and down the document to make sure that he’d seen all of it.</p>
<p>“It’s good,” he said, the hand at his chin gone, and he gently picked your laptop up from the table and turned it over so that it was facing you once more. “I’m not going to tell you to work faster, but promise me that you’ll write something every day. Can you do that?”</p>
<p>You nodded, your hand immediately ghosting the part of the touchpad that Akaashi’s finger had touched only seconds prior. When you realised what you were doing, you slapped your lecherous hand off your keyboard with the other. The action – maybe you had looked a little crazy doing that – caught his attention, and he looked up from his own laptop once again.</p>
<p>“Are you okay, Y/N-san?”</p>
<p>Nodding again, you put on a smile that hopefully registered as apologetic, or sheepish, to him. “I’m okay-er than I’ve been in a while, honestly,” you said.</p>
<p>At your use of the word “okay-er”, Akaashi visibly frowned, his brows knitting together at the same second that it left your lips. It was the first time you could make out how he was feeling. You had expected it to be a triumphant moment, something worthy of a private celebration, but it felt like the exact opposite.</p>
<p>You realised that Akaashi Keiji was still beautiful, even when he was mildly annoyed at your behaviour, or feeling something along that vein. Disappointment, maybe? You would continue listing adjectives in your head, but he would be able to see that you were using an online thesaurus, and you weren’t even writing anything at the moment. Not yet.</p>
<p>“Y/N-san,” he started, something in his voice registering like a warning siren over the public announcement system, but not as intrusive. Like a quiet threat of sorts. “‘Okay-er’ is not a real word.”</p>
<p>Was that it? That was no threat, if you ever heard one. </p>
<p>“And?” You quirked a brow at him, a challenge, since he had failed to give you one when he had the opening to. Akaashi took it in stride, lifting his hands from his keyboard and wringing them with more force than you knew he normally did. It was a habit of his that you noticed a long time ago, something he did when he had nothing to do with his hands. Something he did when he was feeling a little restless.</p>
<p>You made him fidget. That much was cause for victory, right? Akaashi Keiji presented himself as unflappable, and you had made him fidget with nothing but a playful challenge, a movement in your brow that was probably a little too naughty for work. You were acting like you were a little drunk, though you were sure that you were sober, but maybe it was his presence that was impairing your otherwise almost stellar judgment.</p>
<p>Well, usually stellar judgment. Not that you listened to it often enough.</p>
<p>That was incredibly cute of him to wiggle his hands on your account, but you weren’t going to allow yourself to drown in that train of thought. You could fawn over him later in the privacy of your home, when you were sitting in front of some rom-com playing on the TV and you had a pint of melting ice cream in your hands.</p>
<p>“You’re a writer, aren’t you?” </p>
<p>There was an impish quality in his tone, something that you hadn’t heard from him before. It caught you by surprise – so Akaashi Keiji could be a little gremlin if he wanted to be – but you quickly recovered and said, “Sure am. Means I can make up words as I go. You should try it some time.”</p>
<p>You were feeling rather pleased with yourself. You were being witty and engaging with banter, a great achievement in itself, with someone whose back you were content with seeing for years before this. And now you were seated at a table with him and speaking with him, even teasing him like you do with friends. A bubble of pride rose up in your chest, and you were confident that if your eighteen-year-old self who had recently caught the love bug for Akaashi could see you, she would’ve given you a big high-five.</p>
<p>And then he chuckled, his hand that was ever-present close to his chin muffling the sweet sound.</p>
<p>In an instant, you lost all your bravado, what little of it you had, that fragile thing. If you had been looking directly at Akaashi when he had a smile on his face, though it was partially obstructed by his hand, you would’ve felt like you were attempting to glare down the sun itself.</p>
<p>Suddenly, you were your eighteen-year-old self again. A little thinner, but a lot more self-conscious. A little younger, and a lot more familiar with blending into the background of the many, many fans of Inaguro University’s one and only school prince Akaashi Keiji.</p>
<p>The feeling was bittersweet, and you swallowed to rid your tongue of the taste. </p>
<p>“That does sound fun. Maybe I will try it some time,” Akaashi said, and his words brought out of your thoughts that were beginning to turn messy and back to the table. Back to him.</p>
<p>The remnants of his smile were sitting on his face, laid out like Marie Antoinette on her favourite chaise longue but infinitely more beautiful. You could feel your breath get caught in your throat at the precious sight before you, and your head was empty save for the one thought that repeated itself like a mantra.</p>
<p>Akaashi Keiji was so, so beautiful.</p>
<p>“You should,” you said, and you quickly faked a cough when your voice came out sounding cracked. You made a show of reaching for what was left of your iced coffee and taking a desperate sip that was once again too loud to your own hearing. </p>
<p>The smile on his face melted into a thin line when you had choked on your drink like an idiot. Akaashi was out of his chair before you could cough the discomfort in your throat away, walking around the table and coming behind you. </p>
<p>Even while dealing with the effects of your own stupidity, you perceived him with his arm extended, probably to pat you on the back or something. Before his palm could make contact with any part of you, you put out your own hand in his direction, stopping him from moving any closer. When Akaashi was this close to you, you could make out the faint floral scent coming from his clothes and it was a dizzying realisation.</p>
<p>He used the same laundry detergent as your great aunt. </p>
<p>Your great aunt had insisted that you use the same one she did after you had moved out for university, and you had always refused, arguing that the brand she liked was only for rich housewives like herself. She had smacked you on the back of the head on each occasion, but not without telling you that the hefty price tag was a small sacrifice for the luxurious smell, superior cleaning ability and unmatched gentleness of the detergent. It was only now that you realised your great aunt had been right all along. </p>
<p>After all, what was a few extra thousand yen for the tiny litre-and-a-half bottle of laundry detergent, in light of the fact that you could smell like you were wearing Akaashi’s clothes? </p>
<p>You made a mental note to call your great aunt and tell her that she has worn you down with her flawless sales pitch on behalf of the company. Anything to butter her up so that she wouldn’t be light-lipped or suspicious when you would ask which scent she was loyal to. Or you could ask your mother. She too was bordering on the threshold of what was a rich housewife, after all.</p>
<p>Soon, you could be smelling like you were wearing Akaashi’s clothes.</p>
<p>“Are you okay?”</p>
<p>It occurred to you, briefly, that this was the second time that he was asking you this question in the last half an hour. Were you such a disaster in front of him that he had to ask so many times? Whatever small dose of pride you had in yourself from getting a reaction out of him was washed away when you realised that you were embarrassing yourself far more than his reactions were worth.</p>
<p>But maybe not his smile. His smile was precious and needed to be protected. You would humiliate yourself to see it again.</p>
<p>“I’m okay,” you said, after knocking your fist to your chest several times and coughing until the itty bit of ice lodged in your throat had either melted or gone where it was supposed to go. “I’m okay, I promise.”</p>
<p>He regarded you for a moment, with a look in his eyes was unreadable to you once again. While you were still trying to figure out if it was a trivial concern for a colleague, or if he was genuinely worried that you were such an idiot that coffee water and tiny pieces of ice could kill you, he moved away and went back to his seat across from you.</p>
<p>The gentle scent of lavender highlighted by a markedly sweeter, headier undertone of something else departed from around you, and you wished that you had allowed him to put his hand even along the top rail of the chair you were sitting on.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I like to believe that Akaashi smells nice, like flowers. (˘▾˘)</p>
<p>Please stay tuned for more!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. three.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm back with another chapter! And I'm pleased to announce so far, I'm still on track with weekly updates heheh. Super happy about that!ヾ(●⌒∇⌒●)ﾉ</p><p>And also, I'm quickly turning into an Akaashi stan heheh.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Ah.”</p><p>You returned the sound of surprise Akaashi made when he saw you behind the bar counter in a café, mimicking his almost flat tone. He approached the counter as naturally as you imagined he would’ve approached you sitting at your designated desk at work, if you had shown up at the office during the regular hours instead of working from home for once. </p><p>“I didn’t know you worked here,” he said once he was at the counter, and the barely there crinkle in his brow told you that he had chosen his words carefully. But for what? You appreciated his tact at not bluntly saying that you “must be pretty damn poor to be working two jobs” or something along that train of thought, but you didn’t mind it. You were pretty damn poor when you started working at Zombie Café, but that was years and years behind you already. You stayed even when you didn’t need the extra cash anymore because of Ali-san, who had happily taken you under her wing when you didn’t know a thing about coffee.</p><p>You gave Akaashi your customer service smile by force of habit, but you quickly corrected yourself, giving him your regular human being smile. Or your best attempt at it. This was your first time seeing him in casual clothes since you found out you were working at the same company as he was, and seeing him in jeans and a plain t-shirt still did a number on your heart.</p><p>He was so beautiful, no matter what he was wearing.</p><p>“Been here since high school,” you said, hopefully answering the question he had in his mind but decided not to ask you out of courtesy. When it seemed that you hit the nail on the head, you widened your smile, relishing in this small victory. Finally, you took a guess at what was going on in that pretty head and got it right.</p><p>You picked up Akaashi’s drink and held it out to him with both hands, with your regular smile still on your face. “An iced latte, one sugar, for Akaashi-san,” you said, but in your customer service voice. </p><p>He reached out to take his coffee from you, and you instantly regretted attempting to put on the persona of a cheery customer service superstar. His fingers had brushed yours as he took the cup from your hands, and you were suddenly torn on whether you should wash your fingertips after this or not.</p><p>You could wait until Akaashi left anyway. All iced drinks went in the takeaway cups, so he probably never intended on staying. You could wash your hands all the up to your elbows when he–</p><p>Was he sitting down?</p><p>You followed his back as he settled into his seat at one of the best tables in the entire café, one of the few tables that had a charging outlet. It was up against the corner too, for privacy as well as for the comfort of not having multiple strangers pass by somewhere behind you. He had brought his laptop with him too, already flipped open, alongside his wireless mouse and some sports team mousepad that you recognised from seeing it with him at the office.</p><p>There was no one waiting in line to have their order taken, so you tapped Ali-san’s shoulder thrice as you walked by her as she stood at the cash register. “Go, go,” she called when you were already some distance away, always cheerful and always the customer service superstar. You turned your head to give her a nod and walked into the back where the employees’ bathroom was so that you could wash your hands.</p><p>Should you wash your hands though? Akaashi Keiji had touched the tips of your fingers with his own fingers! It was a chance encounter that you had dreamed about more times than you’d ever dare to admit for your own ego’s sake, especially when you were younger and dumber and broke-r. Now that it had finally happened for you, though not in the grand, romantic fashion that your dreams had played out, you felt like you were overreacting.</p><p>Akaashi was inhumanly beautiful and good at his job and considerate and gentle and witty and still inhumanly beautiful, but he was also a person. You’ve gotten a glimpse into his humanity when he had laughed at something dumb you said and deigned to hide his smile, or his laugh, behind his hand.</p><p>If there was ever someone on the face of this earth who had been cruel enough – or stupid enough, because this world had plenty of both types – to tell Akaashi that his smile or his laugh wasn’t beautiful, you would end them on sight. Because they were dead wrong.</p><p>Since you were already on a bathroom break, you decided to sit on the toilet and then wash your hands after. When you had emerged from the back of the café, Ali-san was in the bar practising her latte art since there weren’t any customers to attend to. She smiled at you when she noticed you watching her steam the milk.</p><p>“Tell me about your friend?” She asked, looking up from pouring the steamed milk into the cup of coffee in her other hand, both her hands moving in perfect sync from her many years of practice.</p><p>There was that knowing smile tugging at her lips. If you had been blind enough not to notice the odd tilt in her smile, it would’ve been the mischievous twinkle in her eyes that gave her true intentions away.</p><p>“He’s just someone I work with. My day job, remember?” You said, using the words “day job” like your second job was something that garnered public disapproval. Ali-san took your playful jab like the champion she was, laughing as she completed the final pour without looking, definitely like the champion that she was.</p><p>She set both the pitcher and cup down, grabbing a stencil that she made herself from some craft paper and holding it a short distance above her expertly poured tulip. She shook some cocoa powder over it, and then pushed the completed latte in your direction.</p><p>“Just your friend? I saw him touch your hands. It was on purpose!” Ali-san said, nudging at your side with her elbow as you took a first sip of the coffee she just made.</p><p>You sighed, shaking your head at her in mock disappointment, willing the expression on your face to match the emotion you were trying to portray. She laughed again, and you laughed with her, until she put her hand on your shoulder, squeezing it in a way that could only be reassuring from her and no one else. It would’ve been patronising if it wasn’t Ali-san.</p><p>You recognised this squeeze. It was Ali-san’s “you’re in denial” squeeze. </p><p>“Just your ‘friend’ for you, or for him?” </p><p>It was all she left you with, other than the hot cup of coffee that quickly losing its heat from the cold wind the air-conditioning vents above the bar let out. Ali-san replaced her brilliant customer service superstar smile on her face as a couple walked up to the register, all giggly and smiley and young.</p><p>You continued draining the cup in your hands, leaning your tailbone against the prep counter behind you, watching Ali-san do what she did best. Watching Akaashi still seated at the far right of your periphery, comfortably claiming prime real estate of the café in the corner, his laptop already plugged in as he typed away.</p><p>He reached his finger underneath his glasses to rub at his eye again, like he did that first time you’d sat at the same table as him a month ago. That first time when you’d laughed at him for looking so unbearably cute and he’d told you that he “hadn’t seen you laugh before”.</p><p>You could hear those exact words replay in your mind, in his soft, vanilla sugar voice. </p><p>One long sip at the cup you were holding up to your lips, and Ali-san’s hard work had all gone into your stomach. You set the cup you had used in the sink and left the bar to make your rounds in the café to clear tables, since Ali-san had everything under control where she was.</p><p>“May I?” </p><p>Akaashi looked away from adjusting his glasses on his face and up at you, standing over him for once. He quickly nodded, picking up the empty plastic cup on his table and handing it to you. </p><p>“Of course. Thank you, Y/N-san,” he said. </p><p>You received his thanks, your mouth uttering well-worn phrases that had become part of your vocabulary and mannerisms from working at Zombie Café for as many years as you have. Moving away from his table with only one more thing to toss in the bin, you suddenly felt a tinge of discomfort that someone from your office job had seen you working your other non-office job. </p><p>When you took two steps away from Akaashi’s table, you whipped your head to the side when you noticed a shadow looming somewhere to your left. </p><p>“Sorry, I was going to get another coffee,” he said, stopping on his way to the register when you had stopped. </p><p>You moved out of his way, hefting the plates stacked on your left forearm over onto your other arm so that he had more than enough room to slip by. Akaashi gave a little bow as he took a wide step past you and your plates and a few pieces of trash, resuming a normal walking pace when he wasn’t in danger of knocking you over with all the things you were holding.</p><p>Ali-san skipped over to you, grabbing the plates and trash from your arms with that naughty tilt still in her smile and ushering you over to the register. </p><p>You called for Akaashi to wait for a moment as you all but dived to the sink at the bar and washed your hands up to the elbow joint. Turning to face him after you had dried your arms off, you pulled your regular human smile just for him again.</p><p>“I’ll have the usual, please,” he said.</p><p>“The usual”? You bit back your laughter, but you were certain that you were doing a terrible job at masking it behind your too-wide smile. Akaashi picked up on it as well, a little slice of sunshine breaking out across his lips that he hid partially behind his right hand once more.</p><p>“An iced latte with one sugar, coming right up,” you said, reciting his order from less than an hour prior. He nodded, pulling out his wallet and handing you a ten thousand yen bill. You took it from him with both hands, and while you were counting out his change, he asked, “Where’s your tip jar?”</p><p>You bit back a giggle, anticipating his reaction to your answer. </p><p>You put out your hand and placed it on the head of the dollar store Halloween zombie mask that sat between the two cash registers. “This is him,” you said, as neutrally as you could in spite of the fit of laughter that threatened to spill over from your mouth. “Will you be feeding him today?”</p><p>Akaashi’s mouth opened in a little circle, his eyes wider than normal from your less than standard answer to his standard question. You knew it was polite not to check which bill – if the customer was tipping a bill even, but that was a judgment call that you had a feeling you wouldn’t be making because it’s Akaashi – he was taking from his wallet.</p><p>“Actually, I want to give it to you.”</p><p>You stopped midway between the open register and Akaashi’s hand, holding his change but not reaching far enough to give it to him in your surprise.</p><p>“Akaashi-san, we share tips here,” you said, reciting lines from your employee’s handbook that you hadn’t needed to refer to in years. </p><p>Just in case he had misunderstood your choice to work here still, you leaned a little closer to the customer side of the counter than you normally would. He took the hint and reciprocated, closing the distance on his side as well. “And I don’t need the money. I’m here because I want to be,” you said, your voice coming out in a whisper loud enough only for him to hear.</p><p>You promptly straightened up, and Akaashi was quick to move in a similar fashion.</p><p>“I’m sorry. That was rude of me. It wasn’t my intention. I’m very sorry, Y/N-san.”</p><p>You gave him your regular human smile, because it’s him and you’re still hopelessly deep in the ocean that was supposed to be an insignificant teenager’s infatuation with the prettiest boy in your university. Your heart tumbled at the sight of Akaashi Keiji with a shy hand on the back of his neck, and your smile impossibly stretched wider still, just on account of who was standing before you.</p><p>This was a sight you would’ve killed to see when you were eighteen, and just only coming to the realisation that you had a crush on the easiest boy to have a crush on in the entirety of Inaguro University. The entirety of the region, even.</p><p>“Rookie mistake. Happens to the best of us,” you said in your customer service voice, even if you wanted to be a little cheeky and tell him to make it up to you with a dinner treat. Or even just a cup of bubble tea. Your favourite chain had a store about a ten minute walk down from Zombie Café, if he had wanted to treat you to something now.</p><p>Hah. Oh, to have the nerve to say something like that to the Akaashi Keiji–</p><p>“Let me make it up to you, please.” </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I love Haiba Alisa, and you should too. (▰˘◡˘▰)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. four.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>With addition of this chapter, I have around 7-8k words down for this fic. Usually, this is where I start getting burnt out and/or losing interest, but I’m glad I’m still going strong for this one! ヽ(^◇^*)/</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>You toyed with the hem of your sleeves as you waited at the east exit of the train station, more than an hour early for your dinner date with none other than the Akaashi Keiji.</p><p>Checking the time on your phone again, you wanted to slap yourself in the face. </p><p>You had taken the liberty of telling yourself that this was a real date, and as such, you needed to doll up. Akaashi, however, had made himself clear that this dinner was his treat because he had rude. You would disagree about him being “rude”, but you weren’t about to refuse a free dinner with a beautiful man who wanted to take you. You felt fortunate that he hadn’t behaved any differently at work in the days that followed your chance encounter with him at Zombie Café.</p><p>It wouldn’t have been bad if anyone at work found out per se, but it would’ve been uncomfortable. You didn’t need that discomfort. </p><p>Since you hadn’t been on a real date in ages and therefore had no will to dress up, you were itching to try the new highlighter you bought that Ali-san recommended to you. You’d walked by a store that had reflective glass panels on your way out of the station, and the highlighter seemed to be working as well as she had advertised. It made your cheekbones look damn good, so you made a mental note to thank her for recommending it to you.</p><p>There was still almost 70 minutes to go before the time you had agreed upon with Akaashi, and you were already getting bored from standing around. </p><p>You wandered away from the exit and into the mall that was right beside the station. One glance at the directory close to the entrance told you that this mall had a bookstore, so you made your way up several escalators to get there.</p><p>What to read?</p><p>It’s been a while since you read something by the writer who had inspired you to become one yourself, so you headed for the adult fiction section and scanned the shelves for her pen name. Having found the dedicated shelf just for her – as the woman and the legend herself deserved – you ran your finger along the spines of the books, sorted alphabetically by name. An unfamiliar dark red spine caught your eye, and you slid it off the shelf and took a look at the blurb on the back after it clicked that it was a new release.</p><p>“Psychological thriller, huh?” </p><p>You were trying to write one, so reading one by your writing idol was a good idea. Judging from the thickness of the book and the font size, you could read the entire thing in one night if you decided not to sleep. It was research, of sorts. Maybe you could send an email to your manager and say that you were working from home, when you were actually using the day to catch up on sleep because of your “research”.</p><p>Spotting a row of chairs that was mostly empty at the back of the store, you walked over and made yourself comfortable at the chair at the end of the row. You still had about 50 minutes until the meeting time with Akaashi anyway. You could easily polish off a chapter in half an hour, so you decided to read that much, buy the book and then go back to the east exit where you had agreed to meet him.</p><p>So you settled into the backrest, holding the book open across your bag that was sitting on your lap and began digging in.</p><p>When your phone rang, you jumped, very nearly throwing the book down in your surprise. Who was calling? You fished your phone out of your bag, because dresses were cursed and therefore didn’t have pockets. One look at the time before you took the call, and you swore. </p><p>“Hello, Y/N-san?”</p><p>Of course, it was Akaashi. </p><p>“Hey, Akaashi. I’m in the bookstore at the mall, actually. Mind heading up here instead? I was just about to buy a book.”</p><p>He hung up after telling you that he would meet you where you were, so you stood up and walked over to the cash register to pay for the book you were reading. There were six people in line ahead of you, so Akaashi would definitely get here before you could make payment.</p><p>“Y/N-san.”</p><p>You turned your head in the direction of that vanilla sugar voice from your dreams, and your own voice died in your throat when you wanted to thank him for showing up. </p><p>Did Akaashi Keiji dress up on your account? </p><p>Drinking in the sight before you a little too eagerly, you noticed how formally he was dressed, with his long-sleeved dress shirt, his nicely pressed trousers, his– Wait. Was he wearing leather shoes? For this “not a real date” date?</p><p>Suddenly, you felt horribly underdressed in your printed dress and sneakers. You’d eyed the pair of heels you had worn at your mother’s wedding last year, but you had decided against it since this wasn’t a real date. You wished that you hadn’t.</p><p>“Hey, you look really nice, Akaashi,” you said, when he had walked up to you in the line and stood beside you. The scent of lavender and something else that you hadn’t quite figured out wafted into your nose, and it took all of your strength not to bury your face in his chest just to take it all in.</p><p>You yelled at yourself in your head to stop being so damn thirsty. So what if Akaashi Keiji dressed up for a date that wasn’t a real date? So what if Akaashi Keiji had the first button undone– The first.</p><p>Undone?! </p><p>You wanted to scream when you had noticed. He had the first button undone! He had all his buttons done up when he was at work, so why? Why would he do this to you?! Akaashi looked like an absolute ten-course meal like that, and you were growing increasingly aware that you were beyond ravenous.</p><p>“You look beautiful as well, Y/N-san,” he said.</p><p>You smiled and gave him your thanks, taking in the fact that he hadn’t accepted the compliment you paid him in the way you expected. Then you remembered the reality of the Michelin-starred meal of a man that was standing next to you and it made sense. Even a blind man would wholeheartedly believe that Akaashi Keiji was beautiful.</p><p>In your head, you replayed his words, storing them in the part of your brain that held only good things and happy memories. The only place where that vanilla sugar voice deserved to be.</p><p>“What are you buying?”</p><p>You lifted the book from its place tucked between your chest and your crossed arms, putting it in his waiting hands.</p><p>“Hayashi Raiko?”</p><p>You nodded vigorously, smiling before you realised that you were doing it. “Yes! She’s my absolute favourite,” you said, very nearly bouncing on the heels of your feet as you enthused about your writing idol. </p><p>It has been a while since anyone, really, had taken an interest in what you liked to read, so you were going to milk this opportunity for everything that you could. Whether Akaashi liked it or not, you were going to do your best to convert him into a Hayashi Raiko fan by the end of this dinner if he wasn’t one already.</p><p>Akaashi smiled, but you knew enough of him to know that this was his courtesy smile. Still polite, you supposed, but you would rather see his real smile. The one that lit up his face and never failed to warm whatever was in your chest that functioned like a heart.</p><p>So he wasn’t a Hayashi Raiko fan. You took it as a challenge.</p><p>“I wouldn’t have taken you for a thriller type of person.”</p><p>You paused in your mental sales pitch for Hayashi-sama. “Oh, what kind of book person do I look like then?”</p><p>Akaashi put his left hand to his chin as he mulled it over, his right hand which normally took that place occupied by the book you were going to buy. If on the off chance you weren’t going to buy it simply because it was Hayashi-sama’s work, you would definitely be buying it because Akaashi had touched that one copy in particular. The cover was a glossy laminate, so you were sure that the print of his hand would still be there when you checked for it at home. </p><p>But that was something to look forward to after dinner.</p><p>He gave a thoughtful hum before he said with a measure of confidence, “Romantic comedy.” You blinked, let his answer sink in, and then you laughed.</p><p>“You’re saying that because I’m a girl, is that right?” You asked, teasing him because you hadn’t put on a dress and done your makeup for no reason. You deserved to have a little fun poking at him because you had suffered to look a little prettier than you normally did.</p><p>Your answer seemed to shock him, his eyes blown wide and his mouth was formed into a small circle. Akaashi quickly shook his head, as if what you said had embarrassed him. You laughed again, when you noticed that he had placed the hand that wasn’t holding your book on the back of his neck. He was getting embarrassed, and you revelled in it, despite feeling bad about making him feel that way on purpose.</p><p>Again, you would freely feel bad about that later, after dinner.</p><p>“Of course not. It’s because you were reading Karashima Hana at work,” he said. “She’s popular with women in your age group, after all.”</p><p>You blinked. Karashima Hana? You were only vaguely familiar with that name, since you scarcely read romantic comedies when you could just watch them. When had you read one of her books at work anyway? It had to belong to one of the other people in your department, since you hadn’t a single Karashima Nana book to your name.</p><p>“Ah, that! It’s Ootaki-senpai’s. She wanted me to take a peek for research. I had to fill in for one of the writers at another magazine once,” you said. “It was for <em>Dearest</em>.”</p><p>“You’ve written for one of the other imprints before?”</p><p>You nodded. “Just once though. I think it was Sakata who couldn’t make the deadline. Ootaki-senpai made me do it because she says I need to take a break from writing about dead bodies for once,” you said, laughing when you remembered the look on Ootaki-senpai’s face when you had refused the first twelve times she had asked.</p><p>Ootaki-senpai had had her work as assistant manager cut out for her just trying to make you budge on that.</p><p>When was the last time you had such a good time talking about work with someone <em>from</em> work? The people you worked with were nice and all, but you were seldom at work anyway, so you never really had the chance to become close to them. The weight of your decision to work from home just because it was an option made itself known once again, and it bore down on your shoulders. You couldn’t help but think that maybe even Akaashi could’ve been your friend if you did show up to work, even if it was only one full day a week.</p><p>If Akaashi had been your friend, would you have had this chance to spend time with him too? Just him and just you. Just talking. Just having a little fun, like you were doing now.</p><p>If only– </p><p>“You wrote the piece titled ‘Before I Go’,” Akaashi said, calling your attention back to where you were, back to him, and you were grateful for the respite from your thoughts. Things were getting ugly up there.</p><p>You were about to give him an answer when your turn finally came. You turned away from Akaashi for a bit, and you stepped up to the register, placing the book on the counter and rifling through your bag for your wallet. This was what you got for picking a bag that only had one big compartment with no dividers or pockets whatever, save for the one zippered pocket on the front that was too small for a big thing like a wallet.</p><p>You gave your customer servicer smile as a form of apology to the bookstore employee behind the counter, your hand still feeling around your bag for the telltale rectangular object that was your wallet. Where was it?</p><p>Wait.</p><p>Before you processed the thought right, Akaashi had already stepped a little closer to you, the warmth of his arm seeping into yours. It was distracted you enough that you barely registered it when he handed the cashier his – was that a debit card? Credit? – card, and all you could do was watch like an idiot who had her hand groping about inside her mostly empty bag for a wallet that might not even be there.</p><p>Your customer service smile fell into a fake half-smile like the idiot that you knew you were, watching the exchange between Akaashi who was an absolute godsend and the bookstore employee. The employee behind the counter seemed not to sense your discomfort due to your own idiocy, and you were grateful. Your book was put into a plastic bag – and it was one of those nice and stiff ones, so you could be happy about that – and the employee handed it to Akaashi instead of to you.</p><p>Somehow, you were ready for the concrete under your nice and clean and new sneakers to mutate a mouth and swallow you whole. And you were confident that you already wanted to go, even before getting any food that you didn’t pay for into your system.</p><p>Real date or not, dates were a disaster waiting to happen, and happen it did. You were grimly reminded of why you seldom left your apartment all over again.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Dating is hard, even for Y/N heheh. ಠ⌣ಠ</p><p>I don't know why, but it's both satisfying and mortifying just thinking about showing up to a date without any money. Before you ask, yes, I was that person twice or thrice. ༼ʘ̚ل͜ʘ̚༽</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I don't know if this is relevant whatsoever, but I have never managed to finish a romance novel in my entire life. I can only hope that it doesn't show heheh. ʘ‿ʘ</p><p>I plan to update this weekly, so please stay tuned!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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